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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331651">White Room + Trapped +Psychopath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM'>EWM</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober2020  (MyfirstWhumptober!!) [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Emotional Whump, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Mac as Murdoc, Whump, Whumptober 2020, murdoc - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:14:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How can you fight back and defy the system when everyone thinks your crazy? Mac wakes up in a straitjacket locked in a padded cell. Feedback welcome!</p><p>My super messed up interpretation of the Whumptober Day 11 prompt (the rest of this story can be found in Patient 218 + Madness + Matty) </p><p>No 11. PSYCH 101<br/>Defiance | Struggling</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angus MacGyver &amp; Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Angus MacGyver &amp; Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober2020  (MyfirstWhumptober!!) [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>White Room + Trapped +Psychopath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The harsh glare of the white lights penetrated Mac’s subconscious and woke him up. He opened his eyes, squinting slightly at the fluorescent bulbs above him. The ceiling above him was white, he struggled to focus his eyes. He felt like he had been drugged, his whole body felt heavy, like he couldn’t move. It wasn’t a like…it was very literal, he couldn’t move his top half at all. He was aware he was laying on his side, on a soft floor, his hair was half covering his face. He tried to moved his hand to push it out of the way, but couldn’t. He looked down and that was when he registered the canvas restraints…a straight jacket. His arms were wrapped tight around his body with his hands folded neatly behind his back. His feet weren’t restrained…thank God, he thought. He was in white scrubs that reached down to his ankles and he was bare footed. He could see the sign of two injection marks on his right ankle.</p><p>Slowly he pushed himself up to a sitting position, using his feet to anchor himself on what he realised was a padded floor. He took in the room around him, it was small, unsurprisingly, there was the outline of a door directly in front of him with a presumably moulded plastic window.  He pushed himself into a standing position and wobbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He walked slowly towards the window and looked out. There was a grey corridor with other doors presumably with rooms like this one on either side. He could see an asleep guard on a black chair at the end. It was all very formal, almost government, but that couldn’t be right. It was possible that he was being held somewhere other than the states, but he’d only been in his house the previous night with Desi? Hadn’t he? God Desi, what had happened to her? if he was here?</p><p>He moved back from the window and tried to think, casting his eyes over the room again, sealed everywhere, meant to keep someone in. The extra restraints seemed unnecessary, how had he ended up in this place? who had put him here? All questions to be answered later. First order of business was to get out these restraints, he wriggled his hands around, to get a sense of how tight it was, enough to keep him where he was, but not immovable. Whoever they were had underestimated how skinny he was, Mac thought grinning too himself. He shook his head, trying to focus on the task in hand, he forced the arm restraints apart slightly, pulling the dominant one on top. Then he pulled at the buckles hard, yanking at the restraints, he took a huge breath and tried to puff himself out, he did it several times until he got the desired effect, the previously fairly tight straitjacket was now just starting to loosen around him. He tried to lift one of his arms over his head, but then the guard came in.</p><p><em>“Hey what the hell do you think you’re doing?”</em> the guard snapped at Mac, Mac doubletaked slightly at the heavy Texas accent and turned around to face him lowering his arms back.</p><p><em>“Nothing, please can you tell me where I am??”</em> Mac responded. The guy had an American accent, maybe he was still in the States.</p><p><em>“Where do you think you are? You stupid or something? They told me you were crazy, but not a moron.”</em> The guard snapped again. Mac backed towards the wall, this conversation was not going well.</p><p>
  <em>“Where do you think you’re going?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can you tell me where I am?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You really stupid aren’t you? How hard did they crack you on the head when they brought you here?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Just answer me, that’s all I want.”</em> Mac had a horrible notion of where he was as his eyes ran up and down the very formally dressed guard, but needed confirmation.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re really fucking bossy, you know that? Where do you think you are? You are in the U.S.A, where you’ve been for the last 9 months, although this place is probably nice than the black site you were at?  Although maybe not, maybe all the white gets to you. I can’t believe they let a man like you come to a hospital, if it’d been me. I’d have just let you rot or shot you.”</em>
</p><p>Mac’s mind reeled at what he was being told, black site, hospital? The States, where was Webber? the Phoenix? Something was horribly wrong in all this. The guard continued to advance on him now brandishing a needle at him. Mac started to slide around the wall, eyeing the still open door. But his would be captor saw it too and stood directly in Mac’s path. Mac held up his still bound arms in a pleading, non-threatening gesture.</p><p>
  <em>“I need to speak to someone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t we all?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No please, I need to speak to Matilda Webber of the Phoenix Foundation. Can she come here?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop making demands on me, you’ve got no right. Now hold still.”</em>
</p><p>Now Mac had never been exactly good at holding still, but now was probably the worst time to issue that kind of instruction. Mac made a break for it, pushing the guard with his shoulder. He failed, he felt the needle go into his neck and the drug enter his system</p><p><em>“I need to see…Matilda Webber of the Phoenix Foundation…Matilda We…”</em> And he was out, once again asleep on the soft padded floor.</p><p>**</p><p>As Mac slept in a white room, Matilda Webber received a phone call in her office at the foundation. She was told patient 218 desperately wanted to talk to her and could she come down to the Bray’s Psychiatric Facility in Texas at her earliest convenience. She groaned internally but agreed and put the phone down. She put her head in her hands and rubbed her tired eyes. A conversation with a crazy person was something she didn’t need, but he periodically have something useful to say in between all the babble, so she knew she had to go.</p><p>**</p><p>Mac woke up in a similar position to the one he had been in before. He was still in a straitjacket and he had a monster headache. This time however the guard who had so helpfully knocked him out the first time round, was now staring down at him.</p><p>
  <em>“Looks like it’s your lucky day crazy. Your Matilda Webber is here to see you, just like you asked.”</em>
</p><p>Mac blinked, not quite comprehending. The guard hauled him and pushed him towards the open door, he didn’t removed the straitjacket. Mac was pushed along a set of grey corridors, his eyes scanned them taking in security cameras and a set of numbers on the doors they passed  and the guards, there were a lot of guards, all heavily armed, no guns, but heavy duty tasers and batons as far as he could make out. The floor was freezing cold on his bare feet. There were no windows, just endless doors and grey corridors, the guard prodded him in the back every so often to make him move faster. Eventually he was pushed into a small room with a grey table in it.  The walls were stone, but the metal floor remained. The table had an elaborate set of handcuffs and chains on it in a pile. The guard grabbed Mac’s shoulder and pushed him into the centre room.</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t try anything funny.”</em>
</p><p>Mac didn’t responded, he needed to know exactly what was going on and he didn't fancy a taser to the back either. He felt the guard, undo the buckles of the straitjacket one by one, they were metal by the sounds of it. Mac felt his arms release and the canvas material loosen. The guard roughly pulled his arms out and put them out to the front</p><p><em>“Don’t move.”</em> The guard snapped in Mac’s ear, Mac did his best not flinch.</p><p>The guard undid all the extra straps on Mac’s back and then moved around to the front and the pulled the garment off fully. Mac virtually purred, he stretched his cramped fingers and aching arms. He wiggled his arms around in the air, cracking his shoulders and stretching his stiff muscles. The produced fury from the guard</p><p>
  <em>“I told you not to fuckin’ move.”</em>
</p><p>He grabbed Mac’s wrists and placed them at about the level of his stomach, the guard kept a tight hold on Mac and grabbed the mess of handcuffs and chains on the table. Snap, snap, on they went onto Mac’s wrists, the chain went around his waist. Another chain went to the floor attached to a second set of handcuffs around his ankles. Mac simply stared while all this was happening, he couldn’t really believe it. He desperately wanted there to be some innocent explanation for all this. It made no sense, he wasn’t in prison, that was obvious, but he was being treated like a psychopath. The guard eventually stood up and tugged the chain in front of Mac to make him move forward. He stumbled slightly as the restraints holding his feet were close and he could only take very small steps. He didn’t have to go far; he was ushered into yet another room. This one held another table and a single chair with a massive see-through plastic rectangle covering the top half of the room. It looked like one half on an interrogation room. Mac saw there were two empty chairs on the other side, the guard pulled him towards the seat. When Mac sat down, the guard undid the chains again, attached the one from his ankles to a hook in the floor and a section of the chain from his waist and hands to a similar hook and hole in the desk.  Mac did an experimental tug with his hands; he was very much stuck again. He waited a few minutes, remaining silent, he sensed this guard was not going to appreciate questions. He simply took in the room again, the plastic window, the stone walls, dusty and ill-kept, this room hadn’t been used in a while. The seat was bolted to the floor, moulded plastic again. Mac shivered in his hospital scrubs.</p><p>At that point Matty Webber opened the door on the other side of the plastic and sat down. Mac leapt up, feeling the cuffs cut into his wrists, the guard moved to grab him</p><p>
  <em>“Matty, you’re here! What’s happened? Why am I in here? You have to get me out. Explain to me what happened? How did I get here?”</em>
</p><p>The guard slammed him back into the seat, Mac struggled against the vice  like grip on his shoulder</p><p><em>“I would imagine why you’re here is obvious. Unless you’ve had a change of heart and your madness has suddenly gone away and you feel like going back to the black site.”</em> Webber responded, a cold smile on her lips.</p><p><em>“What, I don’t understand? A black site? What am I suppose to have done? Matty please, tell me what’s happening.”</em> Mac pleaded struggling against the guard</p><p>
  <em>“What are you suppose to have done? Don’t tell me you’re ‘madness’ has grown into amnesia. Don’t blame games with me Murdoc, if you’ve got something useful to tell me, spit out and what…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Murdoc?? Why are you calling me that? Matty, please it’s me, it’s Mac, you know that don’t you? You know it’s me right?”</em>
</p><p>Webber snorted</p><p>
  <em>“This is low even for you Murdoc. Give me whatever intel you’ve got and what you want. I’m not in the mood for make believe.”</em>
</p><p><em>“It’s not make believe! Matty I swear, it’s me. Something is…something is very wrong. I just woke up here, but I don’t III I don't remember.... Matty, come on tell me you recognise me, please.</em>” Mac begged Webber looking her right in the eyes, still pulling hard against the restraints and the guard. The guard gestured to Webber offering to take Mac away, but Webber shook her head. Whatever game this was, it was weirdly fascinating and elaborate even for Murdoc. She paused, staring at him through the plastic</p><p>
  <em>“So you’re MacGyver, are you? I highly doubt that, you see, I’ve already got one of those.  He’s rather good, he’s the reason you’re in here after all.  I don’t fancy trading him, he’s very useful to have around.”</em>
</p><p>Mac stared at her</p><p><em>“Mac could you come in here for a moment”</em> Webber called back, then the door opened and Murdoc was standing there, dressed in black jeans and sweater and his signature leather jacket, smiling at MacGyver through the plastic.</p><p><em>“Hello Murdoc, what can I do for you today?”</em> Murdoc responded smiling at Mac</p><p>
  <em>“What, that’s….that’s Murdoc!! I’m Mac, Matty, please listen to me. Something’s horribly wrong. I swear to you Matty, I’m Mac, I’m Angus MacGyver. You know me Matty, you’ve know me for your years…you knew my father. II”</em>
</p><p><em>“Don’t talk about my father..”</em> Murdoc snapped through the plastic. Webber putting a steadying hand onto Murdoc’s arm</p><p>
  <em>“It’s fine Mac. What do you want Murdoc? Why did you bring me here? “</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don't stop calling me that. I’ve already told you Matty, I’m Mac, he’s Murdoc. He’s the psychopath, he’s the one who’s suppose to be in here, not me. Matty, please listen. I need your help, I need to get out of here, to try and figure out what’s wrong…III, you know me and I know you, the Phoenix Foundation, Bozer, Riley, Jack and Desi.  The first time Murdoc went after us, he came after me, he used powered rifles to shoot at us. Riley stopped them, when he attacked the foundation, I blew a hole in one of your floors. III..”</em>
</p><p>Webber cut him of and sighed, she gestured for her and Murdoc to leave</p><p>
  <em>“All information you could have got from any number of sources. Maybe you really have gone mad Murdoc, who knew that was even possible? This trip was a waste of time. Mac why don’t you wait outside?”</em>
</p><p>Murdoc smiled again at Mac and nodded and departed. The guard unhooked Mac from the desk as Mac fought against him. He wracked his brains for something only Matty would know, only they would know as a duo. As Webber approached the door to leave</p><p><em>“Matty wait!!”</em> She paused, but did not turn around</p><p>
  <em>“When we…when we to see if your husband was still alive…Ethan. We spoke on the plane, you didn’t know what we were going to find, you know it was dangerous for us all. I sat opposite you and said “I wanted you to know that I’m going to do everything that I can to make sure you get the answers you deserve, just like you did for me.”</em>
</p><p>Webber paused, her gripped the door at the memory, but she still didn’t turn around.</p><p>
  <em>“Matty please!! How could Murdoc possibly know that? It was a conversation we had alone, everyone else on the plane was asleep. It was just…Matty…please look at me…please it’s me!!”</em>
</p><p>Webber remained at the door as she listened to Mac shout her name again and again in increasingly desperate tones as the guard dragged him from the room.</p>
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